


Warmth

by jaystrifes



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Winter fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 20:52:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17774036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaystrifes/pseuds/jaystrifes
Summary: For the first time in hundreds of years, it snows in the Fire Nation. Zuko is certain this can only be a bad sign. Aang visits to reassure him otherwise and to share the warmth that's been steadily growing in his heart.





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> The amazing [kuchi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuchi/works) beta'd this for me! Pleeease go read her zutaraang fic Heartlines, it's the best thing I've ever laid eyes on.

Aang never would have dreamed that on a trip to the Fire Nation, he’d have to bundle up in his winter clothes.

The letter he’d received had instructed him to _come right away_ and _dress warmly_. He had been so bewildered that he almost considered sending another letter back and waiting for a reply just to confirm Zuko hadn’t made a mistake.

As Aang neared the country’s borders on Appa’s back, the sky began to darken around them, not with the telltale choppy black clouds of the Fire Nation’s sporadic summer rainstorms but with fluffy flint-gray ones Aang had only ever witnessed at the ice caps. A cold wind ruffled Appa’s fur, and Aang felt something wet and slushy land on his skin. He held up his hand and watched the flake melt and drip down his wrist. It really was snowing in the Fire Nation.

It was unusual, perhaps, but that didn’t explain the urgency in Zuko’s letter. He knew what snow was; he had visited the North and South Poles, on both friendly and unfriendly terms before. Aang couldn’t imagine that a little inclement weather had caused a major diplomatic crisis, so what was Zuko so worried about?

Whatever it was, it had probably driven him half out of his mind by now. When Zuko worried, he worried intensely, and never relaxed until a problem was solved. Maybe it was something ingrained in him from his royal upbringing, or maybe it had come along with all of his more recent responsibilities as the Fire Lord. He had a tendency to blame himself when even the smallest things went wrong, and as admirable as the depth of his dutifulness was, Aang wished Zuko wouldn’t take everything upon himself so often.

Fueled by a new sense of concern, Aang called, “Appa, yip-yip!”

After making record time, they landed directly inside the palace walls. Forgoing inspection at the gates wasn’t the most egregious thing Aang had ever done to get into this place. He noticed the guards in their towers far below as Appa flew over. They might not have taken notice of him even if he hadn’t dropped out of the sky beyond their line of sight. All of them were captivated by the snow as it drifted slowly down, leaning outside to catch it on their hands and tongues, just like young Water Tribe children.

Aang smiled, watching them with a sense of peace blooming inside him. Moments like this made him appreciate how innately similar people from every corner of the world were to one another, whether they knew it or not.

Appa’s enormous paws had muddled the perfection of the untouched layer of white that covered the courtyard, though it was only a thin one. The underground heat melted away most of the snow as fast as it settled. Appa blinked away the soft flakes that had settled on his eyelashes, mooing, and Aang gave him a quick rub on the nose to thank him for the ride.

The guards would know whose flying bison he was; Aang was the only one person who had one, and besides, the Fire Lord surely would have alerted them that the Avatar was coming. There was no time to wait for them to spot him, not when Zuko needed his help.

He took a running start with his glider, sucked in a big breath, and blew it straight at the ground, propelling himself into the air and turning a flip to land on the eaves of the palace. Sprinting along the thick shingles, he leapt up over one of the roof’s sweeping ridges, then popped out the fan of his glider and took it the rest of the way. His airbending kept him aloft each time he dipped towards the many curves of the rafters. It was a bit like trying to ride steep waves on the sea.

Aang found Zuko exactly where he thought he would, in the gardens. He landed neatly beside him, though he didn’t do anything to stop the gust of his arrival from buffeting Zuko, knocking him a step forwards. Zuko started to drop into a fighting stance, but halfway through he realized who it was and stopped himself. Aang laughed at him.

“Someone’s tense, huh?”

Zuko rubbed the back of his neck and looked away, clearly embarrassed. “It would have been your fault if I blasted you, just so you know. Don’t sneak up on me.”

His hair had grown out since Aang last saw him, now long enough that it didn’t have to be pulled so tight to make a top-knot. It fell just past his shoulders in the back, still a little choppy. Several strands hung around his face, long, but not quite able to fit in the ribbon he used to tie the rest.

There was a weariness on his face, and he was in full royal attire; no doubt he had been dealing with meetings all day, signing treaties and deals and putting his seal on paperwork. As long as Aang was around, he intended to see to it that Zuko lightened up for a little while.

“You look good,” Aang blurted. Though he hadn’t exactly meant to be so forward in saying it, he did mean it. “You’d look better if you relaxed a little.”

Zuko snorted, though Aang could see his cheeks dusted pink. “How can I, with all this going on?” He gestured to the snowflakes that had found homes for themselves in the crooks of the leaves all around them.

Aang tilted his head, trying to puzzle out whether or not Zuko was being serious. “You know, it’s just snow.”

“ _Just_ snow? This isn’t the North Pole, Aang!”

“Hey,” Aang said, holding his palms up placatingly, “I realized that, but then I thought about how it snows in other places, too, just not as much as it does at the North and South Pole. The northern part of the Earth Kingdom gets snow for a little while every year, and so does the Northern Air Temple.”

“But not the Fire Nation. We haven’t recorded any snowfall here in hundreds of years.”

Zuko was glaring so intensely at the nearest flowering plant that Aang feared it might burst into flame, in the unlikely event that Zuko had suddenly developed combustion-bending without knowing about it. He stepped in front of Zuko and grasped him by his arms, holding on firmly until Zuko finally met his gaze.

“What is this really about, Zuko?”

“I just—” Zuko blew his breath out in a sigh and closed his eyes. “It feels like it must be some kind of sign, like I’ve done something wrong to upset the balance of nature, and the world. Like I am turning into my father after all.”

Aang felt a pang in his heart for the torment this small thing was clearly causing in Zuko. He didn’t know exactly what to do, only that he had to do it delicately. He would go back in time and fight to save the world all over again if it meant he could help Zuko in some way now.

“Well, did Ozai ever receive a sign like that, when he was clearly on the wrong path?”

“Not…not to my knowledge.”

“Not to mine, either. I think it’s safe to say that’s not what this is.”

“Then what is it?” Zuko demanded, eyes open again and flashing with frustration.

“Maybe it’s the opposite. Maybe it’s a blessing on your reign as Fire Lord. Or maybe it’s just snow.”

Zuko’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure? Don’t you think you should check the Spirit World to make sure nothing’s wrong?”

Aang slid his hands down from Zuko’s forearms to his wrists, where he rubbed the pads of his thumbs gently into Zuko’s pulse points. “If there were, we’d know about it. There’d be a rampaging animal, something. I think I’d sense it, even without making direct contact. If it’ll make you feel better, I could still check.”

“I don’t want to waste your time if it’s really nothing.” Zuko’s clenched fists loosened and relaxed beneath the massaging. “I guess I’m just — overreacting to the whole thing. I’m sorry if I pulled you away from important business for something so silly.”

“It is kinda silly, but it’s also kinda special. I’m happy that I’m here to see it.” Aang scratched at the back of his head, well-aware of how corny he was about to sound, but committed to it nonetheless. “The only waste would be wandering through the Spirit World and finding nothing when I could be spending the time with you.”

A smile finally graced Zuko’s lips, and Aang felt warmed from the inside out, even as the snow continued to settle on his head. He could kiss him right now, he thought, but drew Zuko into a hug instead. He was still gathering his courage.

“You know you’re always welcome here, Avatar. Even when we’re having freak weather patterns.”

Zuko was warm against him, especially his hands wrapped across Aang’s back. Firebender through and through. For someone who had once been so physically distant and reserved, Zuko gave great hugs. Aang could have stayed there forever, but Zuko shifted away first. His hands hovered awkwardly in the air, snowflakes evaporating in small trails of steam before they could touch him, and after a moment, he settled for folding his arms across each other. An anxiousness had returned to the set of his jaw, his eyes flickering to Aang and away to the flowers as their petals froze over.

Aang fiddled with his glider absentmindedly as he tried to read Zuko’s expression. “Are you sure that’s all that was bothering you?”

“Well,” Zuko said thoughtfully, and with a familiar tone of mischief in disguise, “there’s also the revelation that you’ve grown as tall as me. That’s disturbing. And this.” He poked at Aang’s chin, where the first wisps of a beard were coming in. “What’s that for? I thought the Air Nomads were all about being clean-shaven.”

“On our heads. The elders grow beards,” Aang said defensively, and Zuko chuckled at him. Growing self-conscious, he thumbed at the hair on his chin himself. “Does it look bad?”

“No, I just think it’s funny that you consider yourself an elder now.” Aang started to make an indignant exclamation, but Zuko put a hand over his mouth and leaned back, smiling at him. “Come on, let’s go see what the turtle ducks think of this weather we’re having.”

They threaded their way through the garden to the pond and sat together on the frosty grass to wait. Aang watched for the ducks, but he noticed Zuko’s head was turned skyward, tracking the slow flurrying descent of the snow.

Aang nudged Zuko’s shoulder with his own. “It’s pretty great, huh?”

“Yeah,” Zuko murmured. “I guess it is, isn’t it?”

“You are too, you know.”

Zuko’s attention returned from the clouds. He squinted at Aang. “What?”

Aang put his hand over Zuko’s where it rested on the grass and just beamed at him. “You heard what I said.”

“You think I’m—great?” Zuko’s cheeks glowed faintly pink, but it could have been more from cold than embarrassment (so he’d claim, later on).

“I think you’re more than great, actually.”

The turtle ducks had arrived, peering at their visitors, curious and expectant. Zuko was looking at them now, but his eyes seemed to be somewhere else, the line of his mouth wavering uncertainly.

“What does that _mean_ , Aang? Is there some reason you’re always doing this to me? Confusing me?”

Aang sat forward and leaned over, close enough that they were almost breathing in each other’s air as it fogged up in the cold. This was his chance. “Can I show you?” he asked softly.

Slowly, Zuko nodded. Aang flicked his eyes to Zuko’s lips and back up to meet his gaze once, then bridged the space between them with a kiss. Nothing messy or over-the-top, just a simple, sweet touch. Zuko didn’t jerk away from him, but froze up somewhat, his whole body as tense as it had been at Aang’s surprise arrival. When Aang opened his eyes and looked at him, Zuko’s whole face had turned bright red.

“I think you’re great,” Aang said again. In adulthood, he was nothing if not as honest and sure of what his heart told him as he always had been. “You’re a great bender, a great Fire Lord, and a great friend to me. And I’d really like to be a great deal more than your friend, Zuko.”

“I…”

Zuko hesitated. A turtle duck quacked impatiently. Seeming grateful for the distraction, he turned away hastily, and for a moment Aang wondered if he had just ruined everything between them, if he had pushed for too much because he wanted it all. Quiet and withdrawn from him again, Zuko reached into his robes and pull out a small satchel of breadcrumbs—he carried it around with him at all times, apparently, just for this purpose. Despite the dark cloud of possible rejection hanging over his heart, Aang felt it melt all the more for the man who had become his dearest friend.

“I don’t know why you think I’m so great,” Zuko mumbled finally, keeping his eyes carefully trained on the fuzzy, damp heads of the turtle ducklings. The mother bobbed in the chilly water alongside them, watchful and guarding. “You’re the Avatar, after all. You saved the world.”

Aang’s eyebrows furrowed. “Zuko, you’re not trying to compare yourself to me, are you?”

Zuko shook his head and tossed more crumbs out. “No, it just seems like—you could do better, I guess. You and Katara were good together, and you could still have a future there, couldn’t you? And even if not, there’s not a girl in the Four Nations who would say no to marrying you.”

“Are you saying that because you don’t feel the same? Or for some other reason?”

“No, Aang, I’ve felt the same since before there even _was_ a same—before you and Katara even broke up!”

“Really? Huh.” Aang tilted his head to the side. “Well, it’s news to me. Was I really always that much of a charmer?”

Zuko shoved his shoulder, and Aang let himself topple over onto the side dramatically.

“Oh no, the Fire Nation attacks again! The Avatar has fallen into the ice for another hundred years!”

“What? Don’t say that.” Zuko leaned over him, frowning.

“I’m frozen now, Zuko! Only true love’s kiss can free me!”

Aang mimed death by crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes. The frost on the grass coldly tickled the back of his neck, and the silence stretched for so long he began to worry that he had actually offended Zuko. Maybe he had it all wrong. Even if Zuko returned Aang’s feelings like he said he did, he might not be ready for this, or might not want it at all. He probably had a stronger sense of propriety than Aang did, or he thought it just wouldn’t work between them, or—  

Zuko’s lips crashed into his, just when Aang opened his eyes and started to say something. His words trailed off into a muffled little noise at the back of his throat, and he couldn’t help but eagerly tangle his fingers in Zuko’s hair. His other hand made a path to Zuko’s neck, to his high-boned cheek, and Zuko leaned into his touch. A desperate kind of joy danced in Aang’s stomach. Zuko didn’t seem to want to stop even to breathe, and Aang wasn’t about to complain, welcoming the questing tongue that found his own.

He’d forgotten to consider that Zuko had also had relationships before, and so proved to be a much better kisser than anticipated. Inevitably, he had to wonder what else Zuko might be good at doing with his tongue.

When Zuko finally broke away, breathing hard, he caught Aang off-guard by sliding his leg between Aang’s. Aang’s eyes flicked open just in time to catch Zuko smirking at the expression he’d made. In retaliation, Aang gathered the loose-hanging hair at the back of Zuko’s head beneath his top-knot and pulled. Zuko let out a low groan that seemed to surprise him as much as it surprised Aang, and they stared at each other for a moment.

Zuko’s face went tomato-red from bottom to top, and he buried it in Aang’s shoulder to avoid his gaze.

“Oooh, so that’s what you like, Sifu Hotman?”

“If you tell anyone about this I’ll kill you.”

“Aw, I wouldn’t do that.” Aang flipped them over easily with the help of a little airbending, pinning Zuko on his back and sitting on his waist. He winked down at him. “I’d rather keep it for myself.”

Zuko tried to cover his blushing face with his hands, but Aang caught his wrists and earthbent makeshift cuffs into shape around them. Glaring up at him, Zuko tried to wiggle free, to no avail. There was sweat beading on his forehead, and the heavy rise and fall of his chest only made Aang want to kiss him breathless again.

“Okay, no fair,” Zuko complained, his voice like rough stone barely smoothed over. “Improper use of your Avatar powers. There has to be some kind of code against that.”

“Not that I’ve ever heard of. And hey, you can still—maybe not try to _kill_ me, but I’d let you capture me to restore your honor, if that gets you going.”

Zuko performed the most exaggerated eye-roll Aang had ever seen in his life. “Yeah, this might have been going somewhere until you said that. It’s officially no longer hot.”

“I can fix that,” Aang purred, flashing a grin and his best bedroom eyes.

Zuko squirmed gratifyingly under him and looked away, and Aang laughed, conscious of his own charm. “You’re ridiculous,” Zuko mumbled, biting his bottom lip.

“Hey, while I have you here, look at me, Zuko,” Aang said, a little more seriously, and let the earth fall away from Zuko’s forearms. He pulled Zuko upright again, clasping their hands together between their chests and leaning forward earnestly. “I like this, and I like you. A lot. And if you like me like that, I’d really like it if we could be together.”

“That’s a lot of likes,” Zuko pointed out, dodging. After a long pause, he sighed and lifted his head to meet Aang’s eyes. “You don’t think it’s going to cause any problems? The Fire Lord and the Avatar? People are going to talk.”

Aang shrugged. “Let them.”

“What about children? Don’t you need to have them for the greater good, restoring the airbenders and all that?”

“I’ll deal with that when it’s time. I don’t think I’m anywhere near ready to be a dad yet.”

“What if another war breaks out? Don’t you worry that this—us—don’t you worry that it would sway your loyalty? Aren’t you supposed to maintain neutrality?”

For the first time, Aang hesitated. “I know I’m supposed to,” he said quietly. “And maybe I won’t ever be a perfect Avatar because I can’t always do that.”

“Aang, I didn’t mean—”

“No, Zuko, you’re right. I don’t want to choose between you and the world, between any of my friends or the world. But right now we have peace, and I think we should enjoy it for as long as it lasts. And I’d definitely enjoy spending as much of it with you as you’ll let me.”

Zuko’s expression softened a fraction.

“Do you trust me?” Aang asked.

“Of course I do.”

“Then trust me to do my job as the Avatar, and as your partner. If you want me to be.”

“After you so rudely startled me and then wrestled me to the ground in my own royal garden?” Despite his teasing tone, Zuko’s voice had dropped to a sincere, private rasp, his golden eyes warm in the muted snowy light. “Yes, Aang.”

Aang opened his mouth and closed it again, blinking hard to clear his vision as happy tears welled up, unbidden. “I, uh. I didn’t think I would get this far, actually. I don’t know what to do.”

It was Zuko’s turn to take the lead, smiling as he brushed the dripping snowflakes from Aang’s lashes. “I do. First, we’ll finish feeding the turtle ducks.”

He stood all at once, picking Aang up as he went, and Aang let out a surprised but elated whoop, feeling like a kid again. They’d sparred enough in the past that he was no stranger to Zuko’s strength, but it caught him off guard. A grown man, he felt too big to be carried like this, one of Zuko’s arms supporting his back and the other underneath his knees, but Aang wasn’t going to complain.

At Zuko’s nod, Aang fished out the sack of crumbs and tossed all its remaining contents to the turtle ducks, who fell upon it with eager quacking. When Aang glanced up for approval, he found a despairingly fond look on Zuko’s face.

“Did I do something?”

“Well, you’re kind of supposed to feed them only a little at a time.”

“Oh. But they seemed hungry!”

Zuko snorted. “They’re the best-fed turtle ducks in the world. They’ll probably get fat if I keep you around, you and your endless generosity.”

“My endless generosity isn’t a deal-breaker, is it?”

“No, I’ll just have to make sure you stay busy so you don’t have the chance to feed them too often.”

Aang reached up to wrap his arms around Zuko’s neck and held on as Zuko carried him through the garden. “And how do you plan to do that, Sifu Hotman?” he whispered, daring to press a kiss to Zuko’s ear. He hoped he was right in guessing that the conversation was no longer really about the turtle ducks.

“Since it’s so cold, I’d be a bad host if I didn’t take you inside and give you some hot tea, don’t you think?”

“Only tea?”

Here Aang was, the most powerful bender in the world, and all it would take to bring him to his knees was that roguish, devastatingly attractive smirk Zuko gave him. “Well, maybe something else, too.”

Aang laughed against Zuko’s collarbone, and decided, at least for now, to keep to himself the thought that even as snow fell in the Fire Nation for the first time in centuries, he’d never felt warmer.


End file.
